


Eye Contact

by kototyph



Series: Supernatural Prompt Fills [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cinderella Syndrome, M/M, Plot What Plot, shy!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kototyph/pseuds/kototyph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(925): </p><p>IF HE CAN'T EVEN MAKE EYE CONTACT IN CLASS, I DOUBT THERE WILL BE OTHER FORMS OF CONTACT ON OUR FIRST NOT-A-DATE DATE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye Contact

Less than two seconds after he hits send, Gen pings back with,

//sorry did I hit a nerve? ;)//   
//and of course it’s a date, it’s the most classic of all dates//   
//THE STUDY DATE//  
//YOU’LL BE BOINKING LIKE BUNNIES BY SUNDOWN//

He takes a sip of lemonade and texts back,

//not if he doesn’t show//   
//fifteen minutes and counting//  
//and STOP TEXTING PLS//

Jared’s sitting alone in the crowded, cramped upstairs of Mia Za’s, textbooks out and ready for this ‘date’ that may or may not happen. To be honest, he’d considered not showing up at all, but his mama’s good manners won out in the end; besides, even if the kid _doesn’t_ show, Jared does need to study. He can just move from here to his apartment, a block down the street.

His phone twitters like a small bird where it lies on the table.

//he’ll show//  
//he totally wants jump your bones, i saw him staring at you in class//

//LEAVING//

//NO STAY//

//LEAVING NOW//

//JARED PADALECKI I WILL KILL YOU//

Predictably, as soon as he sets the phone down again a shadow falls over the table. Jared looks up into the desperately apologetic eyes of Jensen, his erstwhile study date, and very nearly swallows his tongue.  
  
It’s important to note at this point that until four days ago, Jared had no idea that Jensen Ackles even existed. Jared is on an accelerated track in business and wants to graduate ASAP, so he’s taking a few courses over the summer to get those stupid GenEds out of the way, right? And one of these throw-away classes happens to be Viking Religions with Professor Middleton.

And at the end of one interminable lecture about futhark and runic languages, this short, unshaven freshman in baggy board shorts and a wrinkled button-up had sidled up to him and mumbled something about “Maybe studying together sometime, if you’d like to. If that’s okay.”

Jared—well, he hadn’t been _rude_ , but he had been a bit dismissive. For someone who refused to make eye contact the entire time, though, the guy was strangely persistent, and in the end he’d practically forced a scrap piece of paper with his name (Jensen Ackles) and email (jackles2@amu.edu) onto Jared, and promptly fled the room.  
  
The Jensen Jared’s looking at right now is still avoiding his eyes, but that is where the similarity ends. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he begins, but Jared has completely lost the ability to process speech because _Jesus H. Christ_.  
  
It must be raining outside, because Jensen’s clothes are soaked through and a shirt that was probably tight to begin with is now clinging to him like a second skin, hugging every lean line and strong curve of his body. The shaggy hair that all college students cultivate has been trimmed back and even wet looks sexily mussed, like someone was just threading their fingers through it. The rusty-red stubble from the lecture hall is gone, revealing the clean line of his jaw and creamy smooth skin dotted with these adorable little freckles that Jared just wants to lick.  
  
Then Jensen, pretty pink blush rising in his cheek and still babbling apologies, takes off his glasses to rub the water away from the lenses and Jared can’t quite swallow a sound of pure want. Oh, _yes_.

Startled, Jensen stops midsentence and stares doe-eyed at him, that amazing gold-flecked green surreally beautiful in the low light. “Um?”

“We’re going to my place,” Jared decides abruptly, and stands. Jensen actually jerks back a step before catching himself, blush intensifying tenfold.  
  
“O-okay?”

“Well, you can’t study like that,” he says, watching hungrily as one drop of water slides down Jensen’s neck to pool in the hollow of his throat. “C’mon, I live just around the corner. I’ll run your clothes through the dryer.” 

Jensen looks utterly terrified at the prospect, but he stammers out, “That would be— nice?”

“It’s no problem,” Jared assures him, and means every word.

* * *

And somehow, Jensen never makes it into the sweats Jared pulls out for him.

“Take it you were fucking made for it,” Jared breaths worshipfully into his collar, Jensen’s hair dripping onto his cheek, his skin like wet warm silk under Jared’s roaming hands. “Just open right up for it. Think you can take another, Jen?”

“Oh, God,” Jensen chokes out as Jared’s fingers curl deeper into him, pinkie just flirting with the slick stretched rim of him. His thighs lock up and tremble where they frame Jared’s hips, and he hides his face in Jared’s neck with a sharp moan.

When Jared’s dick replaces his fingers Jensen just gets louder, head tipping back on a cry when Jared bottoms out in his tight, welcoming heat. “Ah! Ja—!”

“That’s it, that’s perfect,” Jared gasps. Jensen’s body is gripping him so sweetly, his eyes screwed shut and a bright red flush burning in his cheeks as he rocks back into Jared’s first slight thrust. “So perfect.”

What might have been protest gets caught, reversed and Jensen moans out, “Ngh, yeah, _Jared_ , _Jaredplease._ ”

Jared lets him squirm a moment longer before firming his grip on Jensen’s hips, grinding languidly into him and forcing a wanton _“Oh!”_ from his throat.

“You want it hard, Jen? Hard enough you’ll be feeling it for a week? Come so far inside you you’ll never get me out,” Jared rasps, and Jensen’s cock jerks hard where it’s trapped between them.

Jared chuckles and Jensen ducks his head, eyes still firmly closed, and that’s no good. Jared wants to see them, wants to watch that shy gaze go blurry and wild.

“You want it like that?” he asks, his fingers stroke along the arched line of his shoulders, the curve of his neck until he cups Jensen’s face. “Then, Jen, you gotta look at me.”

Jensen quakes around him, teeth sinking into a lip already bitten raw, shakes his head in mute denial.

“C’mon, Jensen,” Jared coaxes, leaning forward to pepper kisses along Jensen’s jaw, his chin, his hot cheek. “Wanna see you so bad. Come on.”

Slowly, Jensen’s eyes slide to half-lidded, just a glimpse pale green through his lashes. They shoot wide when Jared groans, “Just like that,” and starts to fuck up into him in earnest.

“N— _ah! Jared!_ ” Jensen pants out on a breathless whimper.

But he doesn’t look away.

* * *

Later, when Jensen is asleep and draped bonelessly over Jared’s chest, the phone chirps again.

//so? so?//  
//TELL ME EVERYTHING//

Jared’s reply is succinctly and pointedly negative.

He tosses the phone in the general direction of the bedroom and tugs Jensen closer, nosing into the unruly spikes just above his ear. His skin is still slightly damp, and it pebbles under Jared’s wandering fingers.

“Cold,” gets mumbled groggily into his shoulder, and Jared laughs and snags the afghan puddled on the floor next to the sofa, tucking it around them and curving a possessive arm around Jensen’s shoulders.

He falls asleep like that, with the soft sound of rain on the windows and Jensen a cozily solid weight along his body.

**Author's Note:**

> For juice87's [Texts From Last Night Meme](http://juice817.livejournal.com/413218.htm).


End file.
